


Another Day at Sea

by estfire



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: And a sprinkling of pirates, Haikyuu!! Fantasy Exchange 2019, Kitsune Yaku, M/M, Neko Alisa, Neko Lev, Yokai AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 09:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21269123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estfire/pseuds/estfire
Summary: Yaku is sent on another recruit mission; no one warned him about the pirates, though....Why did Nekomata always give him the weird ones?





	Another Day at Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SatyrSyd37](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatyrSyd37/gifts).

> This will most likely only have a few chapters (around 4) unless inspiration strikes and blesses me with proper plot. Hopefully it'll be completed by the end of the year; might throw in some Nekoma and Fukurodani moments-!

It was a good day for a mission. The sky was calm, and the clouds filtered the light into a soft shade. 

The waves and wind urge his small vessel forward. A larger ship was in view, armed with cannons and men. The craft wore an aged surface and tattered sails; his mind wonders of the journeys it might’ve delivered in the past.

Morisuke really hopes that this would end well. It’s been decades since he’s had to venture onto the ocean. Aboard a boat of his own, no less.

He extends the reach of his power further around him, concealing his features and ripples of water from the vehicle's wake. He checks his reflection, making sure that no tails or ears were visible. For all he knew, these pirates aren’t aware of the existence of yokai. It’d be much easier if that were the case, anyway. Tricking the unaware would be simpler, requiring less effort.

He takes a deep breath as the shadow of the ship looms over him. Morisuke steadies his senses, listening for shifts of movement. He waits for hints of magic to waft toward him, urging the breeze to set in the opposite direction. It'd gradually slow down the ship’s course and carry away his own traces.

Eyes steeling determinedly, he advances onto the ship. Morisuke nimbly guides himself across the large deck, leaving his rope coiled underneath a thick of barrels; no doubt filled with mead and rations, among other things. His boat was tethered to the far end of the vessel, concealed by his own illusionary magic; it should hold for a good hour or two.

He was infiltrating a ship that housed hefty fighters, and years of intuition tell him to do anything but slip up. Something about tonight tells Morisuke it'd end with nothing less than trouble. He can only hope that it works in his favor.

Night had never felt so suffocating, but he allows himself the tiniest smirk as he works on the sails' bindings.

Trouble _ was _ a kitsune's calling, after all.

* * *

_ Two siblings. Bakeneko. They’re on the run, spotted boarding a ship. _

That was all Morisuke had to go on, and frankly, he would’ve appreciated a bit more information. Despite the miracles that’ve graced his past recruits, (and _ boy _, were there stories to tell,) a hint of identification would’ve been nice. More often than not, Nekomata would send Morisuke with another purpose. This time was no different; there was always a reason why they retrieved certain yokai at certain times.

He leashes his own energy to the slip of paper in his sleeve. It acted as a sort of magnet; another complimenting piece would pull at the magic and lead him closer. He eventually finds himself in one of the many storage compartments below the ship. A particularly large one, at that.

With a glance, one would’ve assumed the room to be empty; Morisuke trusted otherwise. The spell had never failed him before, and he places his faith into his steps as he lightly traverses across the wooden ground. The kitsune was soundless, stance straight and alert.

Just as he nears the end of the room, Morisuke hears a sharp intake of breath. It’s continued with a soft snap and the conjuring of fire. Light washes across the room, kept dim enough as to keep their whereabouts hidden; he notices a man with grey hair. Though the color was not of the old type, but almost a silver shade instead. Accompanying him was a light-haired beauty with similar cat-like eyes.

These must be the Haiba siblings, he thinks. Surely enough, Morisuke senses a complimenting sheet of paper in the taller man’s hands. They share the same stamp on their corners, and he raises his own note to their view. The symbol of his tribe was presented proudly in blood-red.

“I’m from Nekoma. Do you recognise this letter?”

They turn to each other and come to a silent agreement. The sister speaks first, offering a smile. “You must be Yaku! We’ve been expecting your arrival.”

“I am,” Morisuke nods. “Is the crew normally asleep at this time?”

“Yes; though I can’t speak for the captain. He’s a paranoid one, doesn’t like anchoring in case they’re attacked.”

“He’s probably at the wheel right now.” Her brother adds. “We’ve been hiding out for a while, though. So things might’ve changed.”

Morisuke raises a brow. “So they don’t know you’re here.”

“Nope, we’re stowaways.” He replies proudly. “It’s easy to hide as cats, and sometimes we knock out the occasional men and shift to gather supplies.”

“Not bad,” he sweeps his eyes across the room. “You plan on taking anything?”

“Only this!” The girl says. She lifts a satchel, it’s weighed down by unknown contents. Morisuke decides to leave that mystery for later, and instead moves on to the rest of the escape.

“I’ll meet you guys above, it’ll take just a few minutes for me to pick up something.” He starts to leave, wishing them luck. “Don’t get caught.”

“Oh, wait - we never told you our names!” The taller man laughs, “I’m Lev, and my sister’s Alisa.”

Alisa’s eyes widen, caught in surprise. “I can’t believe we forgot!”

Morisuke lets out a smile at that. “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for telling me.” He places a hand to the doorknob with a pause, only continuing when he’s met with a silent corridor. “And good luck.”


End file.
